The Update
by JaceSol
Summary: Funny how one update can change your entire life. A SpiderFlash fic, meaning SLASH Peter/Flash
1. In A Relationship

Two bodies lie on a rooftop in New York, hands intertwined, eyes on the stars.

"So..." A voice sighed.

"So what?"

"I guess this make us official?"

"I guess... I mean, if you want it to be."

"Oh, yeah, definitely."

"Good. Then yes."

"Cool." The teen squeezed the hand he was holding.

"Want to make it Facebook official?" A smirk played in the soft voice.

The face laughed, half hidden in the dark. "Oh Parker... Sure, why not? Your aunt was cool with it. Besides, I don't have anything else to do tonight."

His companion smirked, "This should be fun." A few seconds of tapping and he looked up, grinning. "Done."

The other teen chuckled, "Same here."

There was a small pause before Peter spoke. "I would like to message Gwen and Harry though. Explain things a bit more than 'in a relationship with Flash Thompson'."

Flash nodded and propped himself up on his elbow. "What are you gonna say?"

An embarrassed laugh escaped Peter's lips. "Well, I've already written a email draft." He held out his phone.

Rolling his eyes, Flash turned it to where he could see. It read:

_"Hey guys, I'm sure you've seen the news. I wanted to explain things before people started gossiping. No, Flash is not, I repeat not, forcing me into this. If anything it's the other way around. Yes, it began when he moved in, and no, we haven't done anything besides kiss. Dirty people. Well, I guess I'll turn it over to Flash now..."_

Flash looked over the phone at Peter, who flashed a grin. Huffing jokingly, Flash began to type.

Peter grew anxious as Flash continued to type. After a few minutes Peter was sweating. Who knew what he was typing! Maybe this was all a big joke. Maybe Flash was going to make a fool of him in front of the entire school and all of New York! One post to ruin his life. Spiderman is gay nerd Peter Parker. There goes everything. His entire life, ruined. But Flash wasn't that cruel. He was too sincere to be fake. This can't be fake... Could it? Peter's eyes widened as he heard a whooshing noise. It was done, Flash had sealed his fate. Peter barley kept his cool as Flash handed him the phone, accepting it with shaky hands.

_"Hey, this is Flash. Like Peter said, we're official now. I know you think I'm a douche and that Peter deserves more, and I couldn't agree more. You have no idea how many times I've apologized for what I've done to him. As his friends, I know you guys are very protective of him, so please, protect him. Kill any gossip you hear before it spreads too far. Remind them who I am and what I can do, socially and physically. I don't want Peter to get hurt. I love him. I have loved him for a while now, I just needed to lose him to see that."_

A tear splashed on the screen. Peter quickly hid his face and started wipping off his screen.

Flash smiled softly and started picking at the shingles. "It's true you know." Peter raised his head slowly, eyes still slightly damp. "That night of the fire, all that was on my mind was you. Not any of my friends, not the house, not the doom that was to fall upon my for setting my parents' house on fire, all I could think about was 'Where's Peter? God, please let me find Peter...' I looked everywhere. Then Spiderman appeared and I connected the dots... You are my hero, Peter." Flash

looked up. "And I love you."

Peter blinked rapidly, clearing the tears from his eyes. "I- I- I love you too, Flash." His mouth widened in a grin. "I love you, Flash Thompson."

Flash smiled and leaned back, staring at the stars. His hand found Peter's glove and held tight. 'Yeah,' he thought, 'this works.'  
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**Well? Cute no? Yeah, i know it was short, but i promise the next one is longer! This is my first time to write a Spiderman fic so please let me know if any of the characters start acting OOC. Please leave a review! Please please please!**


	2. The Fire

"Come on guys, drink up!" Flash raised his beer. "I've got thirty more cases!" The partiers responded with a whoop and went back to flirting, drinking and dancing. Flash took a swig of his beer and took a step back from the party. This was so far, the best party of the the year. Drinks, courtesy of his cousin, music, and more drinks. Originally, he was a little wary of so much booze for one party, but his cousin cut him a deal, and that was that. So far, everything seemed great, a few were wasted but the majority seemed sober enough. Flash took another drink and threw the empty can in the sink. "Damn." he muttered. Not that he'd ever admit it, but Flash was a featherweight. A couple of beers and he was done, something about his metabolism probably. Flash shrugged, and grabbed a bottled water from a cooler. He just cracked open the cap when his eye caught the one person least likely to want to be at this party. Suppressing a smile, he sauntered over to the mousy teen. "Parker, I'm glad you decided to crawl out of the lab for once and live a little!" Flash clapped the nervous boy on the shoulder.

Peter readjusted his glasses and gave a half snort, "Right. So glad I could come be part of this booze fest."

Flash's easy grin faltered. "Come on, man. It's just a couple of drinks between friends, no big deal."

"Sixty people and thirty cases of beer? Some friends you've got." Peter frowned. "Why am I even here, Flash?"

'Because I want you to be here.' thought Flash. Shrugging it off, he gave hoarse laugh and replied, "Cause your becoming one of the guys! You've filled out, hell you even know a few more tricks on the court than I do. You're on your way to popularity, Parker." Flash grinned and took a gulp of water.

Peter looked down for a few moments before looking up at Flash. "I don't want to be one of your guys." He said quietly. Looking down, he started moving to the door, dodging and pushing past partiers.

Flash watched him leave, debating on whether or not to follow him. His heart screamed yes, but his brain told him there were better fish to fry tonight. The war raged inside him, and he had just begun to follow when he smelt the smoke. His eyes widened and he did his best to follow his nose, but by the time he had found the fire the smoke had spread out of the kitchen and into the rest of the house.

Two teens crawled out of the kitchen, clothes and hair singed. One spied Flash and yelled over the screaming, "It wasn't our fault man! We just turned on the oven and it like exploded!" Teens began pouring out of the house, coughing and vomiting their drinks.

Flash felt a cold stone of dread fall in his stomach. That's where he had stashed a few cases of beer... Flash whipped his phone out of his pockets and dialed 9-1-1. He felt a cold sweat wash over him as he realized Peter was heading for the front door, right next to the kitchen. He half told, half yelled at the operator what was going on as he dodged and weaved over teens trying to escape. The operated stated rather matter-of-factly that it would take five minutes before the firefighters would arrive. He growled and pocketed his phone.

He pushed his way outside and scanned the upset crowd for Peter. He saw his totally freaked out friends, neighbors on the phone with 9-1-1 no doubt, and quite a few video phones recording the house, but no Peter. The flames had spread to the outside of the house, licking at the wooden siding. Flash ran outside to the water hose his mom used for gardening, cranked it to the max and passed it to one of his jockey's. He yelled to douse the rest of the house as he ran back inside.

The fire had spread to the living room already and was working its way to the bedrooms. Flash crawled along the walls furthest from the flames, yelling for his friend. "Peter! Parker if you're hiding somewhere I'm gonna tan your hide!"

"Ya know, this Parker guy is probably not too worried about a tide tanning right now."

Flash spun around, searching for the voice. The very familiar voice. "Peter?"

A tap on the window above Flash's head drew his attention. "No, sorry, just me." Spiderman slid open the window and climbed inside. "Where are you?" He asked puzzled.

"Down here." Flash mumbled, a little starstruck.

Spiderman looked behind him. "Ah. Alright big guy, let's go." He began to push him outside the window when Flash came to his senses and fought back.

"No, I've got to find Peter! He's not outside!"

Spiderman put a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure he's fine. You however need to get out of here. The firefighters will be here in a few minutes."

Flash was about to bite back when his body decided it had had enough, right there in the middle of a fire. He managed a nod and let himself be drug outside.

Spiderman pulled the teen to the side of the lawn, ignoring the pictures and whispers. His blonde friend had, for some reason, gone mute and actually was kind of scaring him. Peter laid his head against Flash's chest. Breathing was normal, and so was his heart. Weird. "Um, Flash? You okay?"

Flash blinked and sat up, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm fine..." He laid a hand on his temple, trying to calm his raging headache. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

Spiderman's mask tightened for a fraction of a second before he replied, "Someone shouted it out when I drug you out here." Any other questions were cut off, much to his relief, by a firetruck's siren.

The firetruck pulled up to the half consumed house and the firefighters began to do their work. Flash watched for a few moments before he turned back to Spiderman. Or where Spiderman was at least. Flash got up to his feet, head pulsing, and looked around for his hero. He was gone... Sighing, he sat down on the grass as his family's house burned. "Damn."

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**Well, there it is! How'd ya like it? Haha Thanks for the reviews, everyone, remember I run on reviews!**


	3. As The Smoke Clears

Peter jogged back to the half-smoldering house, back in his regular persona. He saw Flash sitting on the curb, watching the firemen extinguish the last of the flames, no doubt waiting for the police to give him papers to sign. He slowed to a walk and took a few deep breaths to regulate his breathing. He walked along the sidewalk until he was beside Flash. The other teen seemed lost in his thoughts and didn't notice Peter looming behind him. Fighting off his better instincts, Peter sat down beside his rival.

Flash jumped a little and gave Peter an appraising glance. "Hey, Parker."

"Hey." Peter wanted to say more but he couldn't think of what to say that would help ease the situation, not make it worse. Finally, he just blurted out the question, "So what happened?"

Flash gave a small sigh and hung his head. "Just the usual stupidity. I left a few packs in the oven for storage, and someone decided to bake a cake."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Odd place to store beer."

"Yeah, I'm well aware of that." Flash snapped. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed again. "Sorry..."

Peter chuckled. "Did you feel that draft? I think hell must have frozen over. Flash Thompson just apologized for being rude, someone call the cops!" Peter grinned, trying to lighten the conversation.

Rather than cheer him up, the comment seemed to make Flash's shoulders sag even more. His voice was low and monotone when he finally spoke, "I guess even I can't keep up that act when something like this happens." He got to his feet and started pacing.

Peter frowned, questions popping around inside his head, and watched as a policewoman handed Flash a clipboard. "Honey, I need you to fill these out and come to the station with us. We're going to have to ask you a few questions about the fire." She seemed surprisingly sympathetic ad somewhat apologetic as well. Much different than the cops he was used to.

Flash accepted the clipboard and pen that she handed him. The policewoman led him to her car and opened the door. He gave a strange look at Peter before he stepped into the police car.

Peter watched the cop car disappear down the road while the firemen wrapped up the hose. Soon they too drove away, leaving Peter to stare at a half destroyed house. As he sat, he thought about Flash's parents and how they would handle this. They had always been prone to being harsh, and this was most likely going to be a prime example. He thought of Flash, sitting in a police lobby, waiting to be interrogated, dreading each minute. And he thought of how he had been so scared when Flash had passed out, and wondered why.

.o.0.O.0.o.

Peter perched on the edge of a crane overlooking the busy streets of New York City. He sighed and checked his police scanner. Nothing, must be a slow night for the low-lives tonight. He flipped inside of the boom and made himself comfortable on the plywood board the cane workers had set out for him. He looked out over the city and sighed again.

_God, would you quit think about him already? He's not going to go to jail; it wasn't his fault! Besides what do you care? He's treated you like trash your whole life before you stood up to him... He doesn't deserve your worry... _

Peter groaned and slid down onto his back, staring at the stars and crossbeams. "This is so weird..."

The next morning, Peter was late to wake, as per his usual Saturday morning routine. He tried not to think about last night as he went through the motions of his Saturday mornings. He tousled his hair to an acceptable state, washed the sleepy look off his face and stumbled downstairs for breakfast. Following the smell of cinnamon, he sat down at the kitchen table to a plate of now only slightly warm cinnamon rolls.

"You'll probably have to warm it up, I made them an hour ago." Aunt May advised from the sink, eyes never leaving the dishes.

"Kay." Peter stumbled to the microwave and set it to warm up his breakfast. He leaned back against the counter and rubbed his eyes, groaning softly.

Aunt May chuckled. "After party blues?"

"Not exactly." The microwave dinged and Peter sat back down at the table. "You remember Flash right, Aunt May?"

"Isn't he the one that is always bulling you around?" She asked, waving a plate in the air. "Yeah, I remember him."

"Well that was his party last night, and um, it got out of hand." Peter poked at his breakfast. "Some of his friends accidentally lit the house on fire." At the silence, Peter winced and looked up slowly.

Crossing her soapy arms she leaned against the sink. "And you had nothing to do with it, am I right?"

Peter held up his fork. "No, it wasn't me, promise! I was on my way out when it happened!"

Aunt May's brow creased. "Why?"

Peter went back to poking his cinnamon roll. "I don't know, bored I guess."

Chuckling, his aunt went back to washing her dishes. "I'm guessing no one was hurt?"

"No. Not physically... Not yet at least..." Peter mumbled.

"What do you mean by that?" _Damn her ears are sharp..._

"Um, Flash's parents are mean?" He was at a loss of how to say it without scaring his aunt.

She turned around, mid wash. "You don't think they would hurt him do you?"

Peter looked down. "Mister Thompson is a pretty excitable person from what I can tell..."

Aunt May seemed to droop a little. "That's horrible... Well, what can we do to help your... friend?" she asked, turning back to the sink.

Peter went to correct her but thought better of it and thought about her question instead. After a few moments, he sighed. "I don't know Aunt May, I really don't know..."

** Thank you all for the reviews and follows and favs! I'm so glad you're enjoying my story! :) I appologize for the title of this chapter, for some reason a proper name eludes me... Anyway, please leave some feeback, good, bad or indifferent! Ciao!**


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